


Learning Calm

by VividSunsets



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-28
Updated: 2017-12-28
Packaged: 2019-02-22 21:14:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13175334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VividSunsets/pseuds/VividSunsets
Summary: Commander Fox is plagued by nightmares after he shoots Fives. He doesn’t go the Jedi Temple in search of help, but it finds him.





	Learning Calm

Fox woke up gasping, drenched in a cold sweat, Fives’ ghostly fingers around his neck. Again.

This had happened five times in five days, so he could not afford the luxury of recovery time. In an attempt to calm down, he rubbed his temples, but he still trembled, barely able to breathe evenly. Falling asleep again was impossible--he’d tried when the nightmares first plagued him, and Fives’ ghost remained, screaming at him until he screamed back, his voice hoarse.

Fox got off the bed, walked forward three paces, and felt around the wall for the light switch. He flicked it on and squinted as the room filled with a harsh brightness. As a Commander, he had tiny quarters to himself, equipped with a desk, bed, and a private ‘fresher, which meant that nobody else had to tolerate his nightmares and subsequently working on reports at zero-three-hundred.

He sat at his desk and tried to start reading his reports for the day, but the datapad swam in front of his eyes, mocking him for trying to read this late at night. Or early in the morning. At this point, they blended together. 

The datapad’s screen flickered as Fox slammed it on the table and stood up, chair screeching. He began pacing around the room in an attempt to wake himself up and stave off the unwelcome thoughts that always came when he couldn’t do his work. Despite this, they bubbled up like tar. 

Clones had nightmares--that much was obvious, but Fox never knew of anyone who consistently lost sleep over them.

‘Or,’ the unwelcome thoughts chimed in, ‘they died on the job and you’re next.’

“Kark off,” he told the unwelcome thoughts aloud. 

The unwelcome thoughts were right. Concentrating on reports while fatigued was a monumental task, he could’ve died last week because he only just noticed an assailant reaching for her gun, and he looked inattentive while guarding and during meetings. 

He needed help. 

Problem was, he had no idea where to find it. Though he trusted and respected the medics, they were not trained to deal with his psychological trauma. The official army doctors might deem him unfit for command and send him back to Kamino, something he wanted to avoid at all costs, so that was not an option either. 

Fox picked up his datapad again and typed his symptoms into the GAR-approved search engine. Numerous results appeared, and an overwhelming amount said to see a therapist for a diagnosis. Figuring that was as good a jumping point as any, he searched therapists on Coruscant, balked at the prices, and worked toward finding another solution. 

While some clones opted to numb their pain with alcohol or drugs, that was not an option for him. While he enjoyed the occasional drink (or few, in the right company), intoxication on the job would impact his performance more than his drowsiness, and that would either land him a demotion or a stay on Kamino.

Deciding that self-pity and self-help could wait until later, Fox decided to get breakfast and some caf at Zetura’s, his favorite diner. Before the incident with Fives, he’d gone when his days were either amazing or abysmal. Now, he’d limited himself to once a week in order to not drain his piddly savings. 

Walking to the other side of his quarters, he reached into the closet, pulled out a clean bodysuit and stepped into his miniscule ‘fresher. There, he reluctantly stripped off his pajamas, and winced when he was deprived of their warmth. He turned the shower on and stepped in, hoping he’d be awakened by the freezing water. He arched his back away when the water hit him, but he forced himself under the stream, shampooed, soaped down, and rinsed off. 

While he wasn’t bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, he was clean and awake enough to get to the diner for his caffeine fix. He dried off and noted that he could see more of his natural hair color on him than he had in years. It was just too much energy to go to the store and buy dye lately. 

He slipped on the fresh bodysuit and walked into his quarters, where he did a few shallow stretches before putting on his armor. He felt around to make sure he had his keycard and datapad (he’d already forgotten the datapad in his quarters this month, and did not want to do the walk of shame to get it back again) before setting out the door. 

The train to the diner never took too long--after all, it was zero-four-thirty, which meant that the moons were still out, and even the earliest and latest commuters were still few and far between. It was an uneventful ride to his stop, and he relished in the cool blast of air as the train rumbled away. Fox felt more peaceful than he had all day as he walked to the diner, relishing the relative loneliness of the city at this hour. He opened the door and grinned as his boot didn’t stick to the floor. Leesa had cleaned before he arrived today, apparently.

“Hey Commander! The usual?” Leesa, a wiry Rodian woman, called out. 

He nodded, unable to help his slight smile. He suspected she could tell, even with his bucket on. 

“Same as always,” he said, before sitting at his usual table, removing his helmet, and unclipping his datapad from his belt. No new assignments so far; no important meetings were called in the Senate, and nothing had happened in the underworld which needed his direct attention (and truthfully, if a situation needed to deescalate, rather than be taken care of, he knew Thire and Stone were better at mediation than him). The only major item on that day’s agenda was to meet Cin Drallig at the Jedi Temple regarding the increased attacks and vandalism there in the wake of the bombing. He never liked dealing with Drallig’s abrasive mannerisms, and he took another sip of his caf, hoping he wouldn’t lose his cool during their debate. 

Leesa brought him the Gundark’s Breakfast, and he asked her for a warmer for his caf. She walked behind the counter, got the pitcher, and poured it for him, studying his face as she did. 

“You look terrible,” she said.

Fox shrugged, but fear lanced through him at the realization that other people could see the physical manifestation of his troubles. 

“It’s the job, you know how it goes,” he responded casually.

She shook her head.

“You’ve been coming to this diner for two years, Fox. The only time I’ve seen you close to this bad is after that incident with the bounty hunters breaking into the Senate building.”

Fox’s stomach dropped. No need to remind him of the other spectacular failure on the Coruscant Guard’s rap sheet, he thought, but he pushed it aside. Leesa didn’t know how that day shook him to his core, how close it had come to costing him his job, or maybe worse. 

He tried ignoring the turning in his guts and took another bite of his eggs.

Leesa looked him dead in the eye, arms crossed. She knew she was right, and he apparently wasn’t going anywhere without admitting it.

“Yeah, the last couple weeks have treated me badly, but hey, sometimes these breakfasts make the days more bearable.”

That was a poor subject change and he knew it, but hopefully she would take the hint and the compliment and stop worrying.

It worked, and Leesa gave a thin-lipped smile before shaking her head and walking away. He ate his breakfast in relative calm afterward, mentally preparing himself for his meeting with Drallig.

Fox stood, paid Leesa, and walked out of the diner, ready to face the day.

He figured Drallig could sense something was off with him aside from their usual disagreements about security (Fox figured that with all the damned Temple Guards, not to mention the other armed and trained Jedi living in the Temple, they did not need a large increase in security, given that the lower levels were as crime-ridden as ever, and needed every ounce of manpower the Coruscant Guard could provide), but thankfully, Drallig paid it no mind. 

By the time they finished, three hours later, the decision needed to be turned to higher powers (though Drallig did warn him that they would probably have to come back and argue their cases again. As boorish as the man was, he admired his honesty). They said their goodbyes and set off in opposite directions. 

Fox walked through the junction where he would usually turn to exit the Jedi Temple to Coruscant proper and his barracks. Despite this, he felt right as he strode through the Temple with his chin up and shoulders squared from years of practice. The sun shone warmly through the windows, casting streaks of light onto the stone corridors; children played; and somewhere in the distance, at least three Jedi were having an increasingly heated discussion about Jedi philosophy. 

As he became more aware of how this was a Jedi Temple, he began to feel the weight of his armor, the heaviness of his step. He knew he didn’t belong here. Realizing that he was acting stupid and outside of regulations, he prepared to return to the junction and leave when he felt a presence behind him.

“Commander, may I have a word?”

Fox wheeled around and looked General Windu in the eye. 

“Yes sir?”

Windu was effective and not brutal to his troops, but he was also a reputed hardass, and Fox took a silent breath in to prepare for what would surely be the tongue-lashing of a lifetime and a boot out of the Temple. 

“Do you have any other pressing matters for today?”  
Did Windu intend to physically punish him for this transgression? Was wandering through the Temple serious enough to warrant this?

“No, sir.”

“Walk with me,” Windu said, and when Fox focused on his eyes again, they were kind. 

He exhaled and followed Windu deeper into the Temple. 

“Commander Fox, yes?”  
Fox nodded.

“Darkness swirls around you. I suspect the Force guided you through the Temple, perhaps to combat it.”

Fox shrugged. “Sir, I don’t know much about the Force, but I’m not surprised you sense darkness. I’m a soldier, I’ve seen a lot, the job’s stressful, and the war’s been on for two years with no sign of stopping. 

Windu raised an eyebrow.

“I’m aware you killed ARC Trooper Fives, and I cannot imagine it’s easy to shoot your men. Kenobi told me Slick’s betrayal earlier in the war took a number on Commander Cody, and you know how the Umbara campaign affected the Five Hundred and First and the Two-Twelfth. Tell me, Fox, has something similar happened to you?”

“I can’t say it didn’t affect me--shooting another clone was a difficult choice, but it was the right choice,” Fox said, his last word clipped. He stared ahead, trying to keep his breathing and demeanor steady.

Windu exhaled through his nose.

“I cannot help you if you do not want to help yourself. Would it make you more comfortable if we discussed this in my quarters?”

Half of Fox’s brain screamed at him to go with Windu, to let him help, but the other half bled anxiety. Would Windu report him to the GAR as unstable? Would he tell the other Jedi if he confided in him? Would they shun and replace him? He was proud of his advancement through the ranks, and he would not let his status slip due to a loose-lipped Jedi. 

“That may have sounded bad,” Windu said, having the decency to look embarrassed. “This is confidential. Unless you pose a danger to the Republic, the Jedi Order, or yourself, I will not tell anybody about this meeting. I also value my privacy, and it’s harder to do so as the war rages on.”

Though the statement was a bit too well-timed to be coincidence, it addressed his largest doubt, and Windu seemed sincere. He needed help, and right now, Jedi or not, a promise of secrecy and help was his best chance. 

“I’ll go with you, sir,” Fox replied, and Windu turned them into a corridor lined with doors, where they stopped in front of Windu’s. 

“May I go into your quarters, sir?”

“You may,” Windu said, using the Force to open the door and shut it behind them. 

The lighting was dimmer than in the hall, and Windu cracked open the blinds. There were three cushions on the floor and the decoration was sparse. In that moment, Fox remembered that the Jedi were a religious order first, military leaders second, despite how hard it was to believe at times. 

“Sit, take off your helmet, and, if you don’t mind, you don’t need to call me sir here,” Windu said, removing his boots and sitting cross-legged on a cushion.  

Fox removed his helmet and his boots and sat, less elegantly than Windu. 

They sat in silence for a moment, and then Windu looked at him, raised an eyebrow, and Fox sighed.

“I’ve been having nightmares,” he said, biting off the ‘sir’ as it came instinctively. His shoulders slumped under a world’s weight. 

Windu nodded, encouraging him to continue. 

“For about a month since I shot him. It’s always Fives, though Rex occasionally makes an appearance to yell at me. Sometimes Fives attacks me before I shoot him, sometimes he looms over me with a hole in his chest and goes to kill me then, but other times I’m in my bed and he stares at me, wordless. I can’t look away, I can’t escape.”

“I haven’t slept well for a month, and I’m worried it’ll either kill me or someone else and I haven’t told anybody because I’m worried something bad will happen--”

“I see,” Windu said calmly.

Fox took a moment to breathe and re-center himself. He’d been rambling, something he thought he’d trained out of himself, and he looked at Windu, hoping he would provide some answers.

“I suspect you still feel some guilt or negative emotions over what happened, whether you’re conscious of it or not. Why else would Fives be haunting your dreams?”

Fox shrugged.

“I figure Fives would be angry at me for shooting him; he was trying to say something to General Skywalker and Captain Rex when my squad and I came on the scene, but he pulled a gun on me before I could hear anything reasonable from him.”

Fox could tell Windu was reading his expression, and though he didn’t feel Windu pushing into his head, he reaffirmed that his mind was his own and that he chose what happened to it. Even if it was silly, he felt more relaxed and in-control than before.

“Even if you don’t feel any guilt, your mind is clouded. I’d like to ask for your permission to meditate with me, so I can achieve balance in your mind by looking into it. You’d need to try and relax so I can see what’s wrong and help you.”

Windu looked Fox in the eye the entire time he said it, and his attention so far had seemed genuine, but there was still the worry prickling in the back of his mind, that Windu was a Jedi, and that Jedi couldn’t always be trusted. However, Fox was tired and vulnerable. He knew his other options were worse than this. He looked into Windu’s eyes again and steeled himself mentally before nodding.

“I don’t know how to do it, but I’ll meditate with you.”

Windu closed his eyes and smiled gently.

“Good. I know you might need a moment to relax into this, so I’m going to hover at the edge of your mind, so you can feel accustomed to my presence. I won’t dig deep.”

Fox did the first thing he could think of to make himself vulnerable. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, syncing his breath with Windu’s. After numerous breaths in and out, it felt like he’d been doing this for ten minutes, though he knew from experience with silence that it was probably only two, but he already felt calmer. Approximately a minute later, he felt Windu’s presence swirl gently around his consciousness, and though he felt protective of his thoughts, Windu stayed at a respectful distance from his mind (how he knew that, he had no idea).

He stayed like that for a while, assessing Windu’s presence, deeming it benign. He took another breath in and relaxed his shoulders, fighting against his training as he did so. Windu’s presence drew farther into his, but it felt gentle, not invasive, so he kept breathing with Windu and let it happen. 

Time became unimportant as Windu’s presence slowly enveloping Fox’s like an oncoming tide, but Fox knew that he was calm and warm, and most importantly, he felt safe. He felt his body grow heavier and let it relax, and he didn’t remember much else afterward. 

Fox woke what felt like hours later, his head lolled forward and his eyelids heavy. He jerked up, and coughed embarrassedly.

“General Windu, I am so sorry,” he said, his face hot.

Windu laughed quietly.

“No need to apologize, Commander. By the looks of your face, this is probably the best rest you’ve gotten in a while. There was darkness in you as you slept, but I hope I’ve dispelled it.”

“Thank you, General, but how long was I out? I might have missed something important--”

“You’ve been asleep for roughly five hours. Your comm was on, and it didn’t go off once. I would’ve woken you up if it did.”

Windu was right, Fox thought, this had been the longest amount of uninterrupted sleep he’d gotten in about a week, and this was the first sleep that had been fulfilling since Fives’ death. 

“I do feel well-rested, but in spite of that, we both have our duties to attend to, so with respect, General Windu,” Fox said, beginning to stand up.

“Commander Fox, please sit down for a moment. I want to teach you something in case the nightmares return, or if you ever need to calm down. Consider it a Jedi’s duty.”

Fox looked at him doubtfully. Even though Windu had truly helped him, he didn’t think he could replicate Jedi spirituality on his own. However, Windu had taken time out of his day to do him a favor, so even if this had no effect, he supposed he could learn for a few minutes.

“I’m listening, sir.”

“It’s basic meditation--we teach it to our Initiates before they learn to control the Force, and it’s a cornerstone of many people’s lives, even outside of the Jedi Order. Anyone can do it.”

Fox felt a flutter of hope when he realized that this wasn’t Jedi-specific. He still felt dubious about whether he could feel that level of calm without somebody guiding him, but the principle didn’t seem too difficult. 

“Find yourself a space where you can either empty your mind or focus on something that’s not your stress--the conventional manner is how we sat, cross-legged or knees folded, but I know of some who meditate while exercising or while doing a simple task. Whatever works for you, though I prefer the traditional method. While you do that, remember to breathe and not focus on your stress. I know it’s difficult, but it becomes easier with practice. That’s about all I’ll get into to not intimidate you--if I get into what personally helps me with meditation, I’ll have to mention use of the Force, which I suspect you want to avoid.” 

Fox laughed and nodded.

“If you don’t want to stay any longer, I’ll walk you out of the Temple so another Jedi doesn’t yell at you for intruding.”

Fox stood up and put his helmet back on.

“Much appreciated, General.”

The two walked to the entrance of the Temple in silence. Before Fox walked into the bustling city, he turned to Windu a final time. 

“Thank you, for everything. I hope I’ll sleep well, and even if I don’t, these five hours were valuable to me.”

“You’re welcome--and Fox. If you need help again, contact me. I’ll try to help you if I’m in the area.”

Fox thanked him again and walked out of the Temple with warmth in his heart. 

As Fox did his work that night, he was able to concentrate on it for the first time in weeks. He quickly tapped out a message to a Lieutenant about how to handle a dangerous gang situation on level 1312, finally read the reports he needed to instead of skimming them, noted that he and a few squads were guarding Senator Alvar as she proposed joining the Republic to an unstable planet in the Outer Rim, and though the local insurgents were a potential threat, he was sure he could handle the situation.

When he checked the time again, it was twenty-two-hundred, and despite his earlier nap, he felt tired again. With some apprehension, he went through the motions to get ready for bed at his usual hour, or what was usual a month before. He stripped off his bodysuit, got into his sleep-clothes, pulled back his sheets, and lay down to sleep. 

The next thing he knew, his alarm chirped, the clock reading zero-five-hundred. He groaned, got up from bed, and sleepily walked into his ‘fresher. He stripped, mentally noted to buy his hair dye, and truly woke up as the cold shower water hit him. He quickly scrubbed down, dried off, and stepped out, and while he felt tired, he felt ready for the day.

As he put his bodysuit and armor on, he checked his datapad and noted that Drallig had sent him a message stating that the two of them were to argue their cases to the Jedi Council about the best way to protect the Temple. As he checked his agenda for the next two weeks, he noticed the usual ups and downs, and suddenly, they felt usual, not like monumental tasks. He quickly made sure he had his datapad and room key, and started down to the caf to get breakfast. While all may not have been right in the galaxy, all was normal for him.


End file.
